My Game
by ethicalcannibal
Summary: Set after the books, Hermione Granger takes a turn for the dark, and must delve into dark magics to resurrect her dead professor. Darker themes, and not all our young book heroes are depicted in a good light. Very adult. Light BDSM. A cynical look at the wizarding world, and what if a bright promising wizard wasn't content to be known as a mudblood by the community at large?


Hermione picked her way into the deserted shack. She remembered this place from her childhood as being so big and dangerous, and a part of so many adult mysteries. Now it was a dingy collapsing shed to her eye.

She was careful to make sure nobody had followed her, or was watching, when she came to the shack. It had taken her years to sort out how she was going to do this, and she didn't want any last second trouble.

She wasn't dressed in wizard robes. She'd left the wizarding world many years back, shortly after the divorce. At about the point where she realized that once a mudblood, always a mudblood to the wizarding world. Even if you helped defeat one of their biggest terrors.

She wore basic muggle jeans, sneakers, and a tshirt. She carried a small purse at her side, but like always, it was much larger on the inside, and carried everything she might need. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and to the average wizard, she might just look like a lost muggle hiker looking for a place to sleep for the night. That look got her through a lot of wizard territory unmolested, actually. Since the war, nobody was allowed to harm muggles, and it was strictly enforced. At least that was a change for the good.

After the war, things went rather well, she had thought at the time. Ron had proposed, and she had said yes. At the time, she had thought it was a good match. He had been so supportive, and understanding.

He had been with her through all her years at Hogwarts, and all her years helping Harry. The three of them were best friends, and she had thought Ron would have been happy to settle down with her. For her part, she really did love him.

She didn't realize back then, that in a lot of ways she was the prize Ron felt he had gotten from Harry. That Ron was still jealous of Harry's wealth and fame. He did care about her, but the deal was sweetened by "getting the girl". She was an unwitting member of a love triangle that resided only in Ron's head. Ron was not smart enough to realize that Harry liked Hermione as a friend, but his taste in women didn't run towards the her level of intellect.

That was 10 years ago. She wasn't a little girl anymore, and back then she never would have envisioned her marriage would last just under two years. Ron was happy to get a job with his father at the ministry, and spend his time exploiting his fame with a butter beer in hand at the local pub. It took her entirely too long to realize that it wasn't just the drinking, and story telling, but also the women. For Ron Weasely, being an attractive man that helped to defeat Voldemort in the war, was too irresistible. The divorce had been swift.

She did have offers of work back then, but not to the level she had expected. That was when she had realized her blood was tainted in the view of the wizarding world. Even the nicer more progressive witches and wizards still didn't know what to do with her.

Before the war, she could have gotten by, simply by blending in. Nobody would have known who she was up front. But after the war? She was Harry's famous sidekick, the mudblood, Hermione Granger.

When she had tried to talk to Harry about it, he had said she was just making too much of it. That nobody cared about her bloodlines. It's like he just didn't believe anyone could treat her that badly. He even said that whole "bloodline problem thing" was settled with the war, and nobody was racist anymore. He just could not see it.

It frustrated her to tears. She had helped Harry fight and win against one of the largest villains in living history, and she was nothing more than a dirty, dirty, mudblood. Nothing she ever could do, as proven by her help in defeating Voldemort, could ever erase that for a lot of people.

Wizards were very much about who was related to whom. It was in part why Hagrid was treated so terribly. He was related to giants. Having nonhuman blood in your family was worse than being born to muggles, or being a squib with no powers born to mages.

She had looked into it when she had been at Hogwarts. She wasn't an idiot, and in those early years she would have given anything to connect her family line to another wizarding family in any possible way. She had even learned several forms of genealogy spells, and practiced them until she could do them in her sleep.

No matter what kind of spell, or how she worked it, her blood really was about as run of the mill as you could get. She had no links to any of the wizarding families. She really was as plain as a human could be.

She rolled her eyes, and thought back, at least her parents were very intelligent, well read, and well educated. Then she sighed, if only she had not been so very intelligent, well read, and educated about magic. She might have never been able to cast a False Memory Charm so powerful, that she couldn't undo it. It had been so powerful that nobody had been able to undo it.

She paused as she set her bag down on the floor. She'd given up everything to help fight Tom Riddle. She lost everything to help a world that saw her with disgust. If she had any more tears to shed, she would. But that was long gone.

She turned her mind to Tom Riddle as she unpacked the items from her bag. He was such a fool. He could have changed the world, but he was so caught up in proving what a great "Lord" he was, and obscuring his bloodlines, that all he really did was blow and bluster, then burn out.

Sadly, he wasn't a bad wizard at all. Riddle was, indeed, a great wizard. He delved into dark magics that most people were unable comprehend. However, Hermione spent most of her free time in Hogwarts library as a child, and since they had no idea how the whole Voldemort thing had played out, most of that literature was still available in the Restricted Section. Not for students, mind you, but for research.

That had never been a problem for Hermione, though. She had managed to come and go as she pleased. Unlike Harry, and his invisibility cloak, all she really needed was her top grades, and to tell people she was fetching books, or doing special research for, one or the other professors. People only see what they want to see. She was not exactly the most threatening looking witch in Hogwarts. Yet, she was the most promising in generations she thought, factually.

She pulled her cauldron, and several vials out of her purse. It had taken the better part of the last year to hunt up these ingredients. Some were very difficult to procure, and had required some political wrangling to get.

She smiled to herself, as she thought over the fact that if you were smart enough to really understand the underlying principles, you could achieve anything and not be bound to the recipes. It was all about really understanding the principles.

She then took the time to lay out potion ingredients, and start the process. This would take a detailed potion, and had to be combined with a few darker, and very illegal spells.

She was aware that they were very near the rebuilt Hogwarts, and the new protections did include some detection capabilities for the magic she was casting. When the potion was brewed, she was prepared with a silver skeleton key. It was a portkey to her cabin that was timed to activate for when she was done. They would be away before any Aurors could come snooping.

She smiled again, and said outloud, "And that this is how you do things Mr. Tom Riddle."

Then she cast an anti-disapparition jinx to prevent anyone from apparating into the shack. She had always been fascinated by the jinx as it was cast at Hogwarts. This was a much smaller, and far more vaporous jinx, and would fade with time. It would leave without a trace. She liked to rework the basic spells she was aware of, to fit her personal needs.

As she flicked her 10 3/4" vine wood wand, with a dragon heartstring core, she smiled warmly. It had taken her three weeks to track down where her wand had ended up after the Snatchers had taken it.

It had been sold to a black market wand purveyor, and he had the audacity to sell his stolen wares in a darker corner of Daigon Alley. That had been akin to selling her own belongings in her own back yard. Suffice to say, he was no longer open for business.

There was a reason Ollivander had given her a wand with a dragon heartstring. It was too bad nobody else understood why the wand had chosen her. Perhaps they just weren't as smart as they thought they were.

Then she cast an Obsfuco charm, that would obscure the goings on in the shrieking shack from any magical eavesdropping. That Maurader's Map was still out there, and if it could be done that way, it could be done another way. James Potter, and crew, were not the most detail orientated spell casters, so there could be better versions out there.

Lastly, she cast an small alarm charm, to let her know if anyone, man or animal, came close to her location.

She turned back to her potion ingredients on the floor. She sat down, crossing her legs, and started the brewing. She thought over the ingredients she had collected.

The hardest by far had been unicorn blood. Once again she shook her head at how much of a complete idiot Tom Riddle had been. When she had gone to the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, and explained that she needed some unicorn blood, they had listened to her. She had explained how she didn't want to harm any, and if they knew of any accidents, she would pledge her aid in healing the creature, in return for any of the spilt blood.

The Centaurs had remembered her, and her part in the fight against Voldemort. They had discussed it, and agreed. Probably in part because for them, the wizarding world was a world fill with powerful wizards who had given them no end of grief. The wizards defacto treatment of demi humans did seem to work in her favor these days. She was known for her "childish" belief that house gnomes and other non humans should be free, and not work as an enslaved race to wizards.

Almost a year later she was contacted, and came to the rescue of a pregnant mare, who was in trouble while giving birth. She helped with a few medical potions, and a few charms, and in return, she was given a vial of the blood that had come from the birthing. It was by far, one of the hardest ingredients to get, without incurring the Unicorn's blood curse.

For the next ingredient, powdered horn from a Romanian Longhorn dragon. It is a class B Tradable Material, and the species was classified as endangered. Lucky for Hermione, her ex brother-in-law, Charlie, studied dragons in Romania. When she asked him for help, he had assumed it was for a very special potion. She had left the implication it was a life saving event, which was no lie. He had been able to harvest some from a bit of broken horn, so she could have it.

The rest was a bit of this and that. Her potion stores were rather impressive, and it wasn't hard to round up the rest.

This potion was of her own design. She had first hand knowledge of the philosopher's stone from her time at Hogwarts, and she had knowledge of Voldemort resurrecting himself using his Horcruxes. Most wizards spent a lifetime without having access to that level of magic to look over.

It hadn't been easy, but once she set her mind to something, she wasn't one to give up. Because of her role in the war, she had access to the higher magical learning institutions, and their libraries. She had offers of an education at the same, but she just couldn't stomach being a token mudblood at the exclusive family run institutions.

She had also been given free reign of many private libraries. Shockingly, even the Malfoy's had extended the use of their private library. Narcissa had always been grateful to her son's life being spared in the war, and she was a veritable wealth of information on most of the families in the wizarding world. Perhaps, too, Hermione thought, Narcissa was also a very shrewd judge of character.

It took about an hour for the potion to reach the right consistency. She poured the potion into a small pure silver cup, and set it aside.

It would be the big finale to her work, but the spells she needed to cast first would be crucial. These two spells had taken the bulk of her research efforts.

The first was a known spell, but a level of dark that was deeply forbidden. Even Riddle hadn't attempted this, but then again he was all about flash, and personal power. This would require trusting someone else. It was called Resurrectio. On the surface it was easy, but the devil was always in the details.

She laid out several items. The hair and wand of the victim, taken from his grave. She searched the shack for the dark blood stained floor boards where Nagini killed Hermione's old potions professor. She carefully laid his wand, and his hair down onto the spot he was killed.

She then stepped back, and closed her eyes and took a few breaths. She ran through the preparations, and the steps she needed to do. She mentally went over her practice trials, and the successes and failures that had come of it.

"Just breathe, Hermione. You can do this," she whispered into the night air.

She stood up straight, and held her wand out, and intoned, "Ressurectio!" with an air of command, and confidence.

Then, she stood stock still watching as blue sparks started to lazily dance up out of the stained floor boards. The sparks started dancing around the wand, and the hair. Before long, the ghostly form of Severus Snape visibly took shape. His ghostly visage appeared to be sleeping.

She then flicked her wand out again, and commanded, "Corporealus!" shooting sparks at the ghostly apparition.

The ghostly form, appeared to convulse, and bloody veins, and flesh started to manifest, building blood and bone into a full body.

She watched for several minutes as the bloody process finished. This was the problem. Without the potion she had brewed, the resurrected would come back a screaming halfwit incapable of competent thought or speech. This was the reason this spell was one of the darkest spells. You could resurrect an individual, and try to get information out of them, or use them to leverage their family. However, without the potion she had researched and brewed, they would never be whole.

She quickly pulled the silver cup over, and pulled Severus' bloody head onto her lap. She then poured the contents of the cup into his mouth, a little at a time, careful not to let him choke. The professor's breathes slowed, and came more easily.

Now, for an old classic, she thought. She was so very good at mind magics. . . She cast the false memory charm before Snape had a chance to wake into his own self. She wove a set of memories that bound Severus' unwavering loyalty, and love, to herself. She tied his sense of duty and devotion to her progression through Hogwarts. Replacing his love for Lilly Potter.

She was so damned good at this, she thought darkly. Well, now, she'd use it to her advantage, and not to her detriment.

She then quickly laid Snape's head gently on the floor boards, and reached across to her purse, and gathered up the potion supplies. She carefully tucked his wand into her purse with everything else. He'd want that later.

Then she pulled out a cloak, and wrapped it around Snapes naked, blood covered, body. Then she took the silver skeleton key, and put it into Severus' hand, and wrapped her hands around his, and the key, to keep both of them in contact.

She looked at her watch, and realized she had several more minutes. She was sure her spells had alerted any anti dark magic charms in a ten mile radius. Hell, she thought, she might have rang the gongs at the Ministry with this one. She closed her eyes again, and just held his hands around the key with hers.

"Just breathe, Hermione," she whispered to herself. She concentrated on her breathes, making them slow and even, just like Snape's.

Then, she heard the tiny tinkling of her warning bell charms. She glanced at her muggle watch, and she knew the Porkey should activate any second now. She just had to remain calm.

Then, just when she ready to call her wand in hand, and go to plan B, she felt the yanking feeling of the portkey. As soon as she felt that pull in her stomach, she tightened her hands around Snape's.

She found herself sprawled on the floor of her small cabin. Nobody could follow them now. Who would guess they would have gone to the city of Wells, or that she had a small cabin there, up in the Mendips. An improbable, well protected, haven.

She shook off the effects of the portkey, and then immediately set to work, making sure Severus was okay. She laid him out on the floor, and frantically dug in her purse for the Revive Potion.

She tipped it gently into his mouth. Once again, she was careful to feed it to him in small doses so he wouldn't choke.

Then as he started to move, she pulled out her wand and cast Tergeo, to clean his body, removing the blood left over from his resurrection.

Severus moaned slightly, and started to move. Hermione sat next to him anxiously, afraid to move for fear of startling him. She wouldn't know if all her hard work was successful until he awoke.

Snapes eyes opened, and his dark eyes looked unseeing for a moment, until they focused on Hermione. His dark eyes searched hers in confusion, before he reached a long pale arm out to her, and whispered hoarsely, "You're alright. . . Voldemort. . . "

"Yes. I'm fine, but I'm more worried about you. . . Severus," she replied. Calling him by his first name seemed to come off her tongue with a bit of difficulty. Despite being a decade out of Hogwarts, she still saw him as Professor Snape.

In fact, he was the exact same as he was when he'd died. Same age, same look, same greasy hair. She, however, was close to thirty now.

This was not a point that was missed on the ex professor. His brows knit, and he ran his hand down her face, "How did the years catch up to you?"

She shook her head, before catching his hand in hers, and holding it to her cheek, "The years caught up to me, but they left you behind for a time." Then she turned, and pressed her lips into the palm of his hand, watching his reaction.

He closed his eyes, and sighed deeply. He reached out with his other hand, and pulled her much slighter form to him.

"Tell me what has happened?" Snape said, as he wrapped his arms around her.

Hermione smiled because so far so good, with at least the success of her resurrection. Then she explained, "We won the war. Voldemort was destroyed. The Eldar Wand was destroyed afterwards. The world went on without us, but really not terribly much has changed now that things have settled down. . . You. . . You were killed by Voldemort. . ." she trailed off.

Snape shuddered, holding her tighter, "I remember my death, but . . ." Then he held her out from him. The robes that were wrapped loosely around him slipped, sliding down revealing his pale thin body. His long thin arms held her out so his panicked eyes could search hers. His body shivering in the cold of her cabin.

"What did you do?!" He demanded.

Hermione hoped this meant the memory charm was holding. It wouldn't control him, but would instead inform his behavior. If she was right, he was starkly terrified of what she might have done. Not for himself, but for her.

"I spent my time researching how to resurrect the dead. I travelled the world, and gathered ingredients. I combined the Resurrectio, the Corporealus spells, with a potion to hold your mind whole. It took time. . . " She said. She was worried. What if the memory charm had failed?

"How could you take a chance like that? What if that went wrong?! What if they find out, and you get put in Azkabhan. That is the darkest of dark magic." he said, before pulling her back to his bare chest.

She let him hold her for a few minutes, then she felt his lips press to the top of her head, "I could not lose you, like I lost Lilly." Then he pressed his lips to her head again.

She tilted her head back to look at his face, and they locked eyes. Hermione wasn't sure what to do. She'd left any memories of this kind of thing with Snape vague, or more implied than concrete. She knew nothing of him. She was suddenly very nervous.

Snape, however, was not the kind of man to shrink from things. Long gone was the nervous boy that he was. You simply could not live his double life, without becoming confident in your own abilities.

He tipped her chin up with his right hand, and then leaned down to brush her lips with his. She started at the warmth of the touch, and her eyes flew wide open.

This had been part of her plan, but sometimes the actual implementation was shocking, despite all the planning in the world.

She braced herself, and leaned into his kiss, melting her body into his. His mouth opened, and was shockingly warm. His hands held her with confidence and skill, as she pressed into his body. They kissed for several minutes breathlessly.

Hermione hadn't expected to feel such passion at his touch. Her child self had always been terrified of him, but her adult self had transformed that fear into deep respect, and awe at his skills.

She hadn't thought his lips would start a fire for her. She had expected to fake it, like she had done in her dead marriage. He was so attuned to her every movement, she wasn't even sure that would work, now.

She pushed back away from him, "My clothes! They're bloody, I'll get you bloody again!"

He started to smirk, then it deepened to a laugh, "My dear, you braved some of the darkest magics known to the world, ripped me from deaths embrace, managed to succeed where Voldemort himself failed, and you are worried about a little blood?" He continued to laugh harder, until the robes around him pooled around his waist, leaving his white skin exposed dangerously low. Enough so that Hermione could see the trail of dark hair wisps peaking up under his belly button.

"I . . . I . . . " Hermione stuttered. Was this Snape? Was this him being confident, and relaxed? She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, and wasn't entirely sure what his memories had translated her spells into.

Snape reached up to her wild unruly hair, and pulled it from the failing braid. As his fingers picked her hair loose, his face softened, and he said, "You were my most promising student, and that's the truth. There were others I had hopes for, but you were the one that excelled in the face of all the adversities I threw at you, and all the difficulties I put in your way."

Hermione reached up to catch his hand, and pressed it against her cheek again, and watched him carefully for a few seconds before she moved away. She looked down at her tshirt, and realized she looked like a muggle horror movie. Thick viscous blood ran down her front, from holding Snape with the portkey.

She stood up gracefully, and turned to drop the portkey on the table. Then she glanced around the one room cabin. It had been good enough for her solo needs, but now it seemed very crowded with the man sitting on the floor.

She then went to the dresser and pulled out a clean set of clothing, and then turned her back to Severus, and pulled her shirt up over her head. She was careful to keep the blood on the shirt, and not make a mess of things.

Snape sat where he was, watching her intently. His calculating eyes never missed a movement of his young savior. His mind was churning with this new turn of events, but his outward expression was one of confidence and calm.

He watched her slender back reveal itself to him. Her skin was smooth, slightly tan, and clear. Her long hair was as wild and untamed as ever. He watched as she decided whether to continue, or go into the bathroom for privacy. He narrowed his eyes, and watched carefully, as she reached back to unhook her bra, and let it fall onto the bloodied shirt.

She heard Snape stand as she reached for the large baggy tshirt she was going to replace her soiled shirt with, and started as she felt him run his fingertips down her right shoulder.

"Don't bend on formality on my account," he said, as he traced his fingers down her back, to her waist.

Hermione felt her breath come in a small gasp, and found herself at a loss for words, frantically trying to find the right answer.

Luckily for her, Snape seemed to have more answers than she did, "I know we've never touched. I would never have, given that you were under my protection, but now it seems the tables have turned, Miss Granger, and you are all grown up with no further need of my protection." Then he leaned forward and touched his hot lips lightly to her shoulder.

"Are you sure you feel alright? There are all sorts of side effects we should be looking out for," Hermione said, but she found herself standing straight, and leaning slightly back into his touch.

She felt him pull her shoulder, turning her to face him. He was still so very much taller than she was. The robe she had covered him with, was still on the floor where he'd left it. He stood before her, in all his pale glory. She watched appreciatively, as he pushed his black hair out of his eyes. Even after the cleaning spell, it had it's characteristic stringy qualities, but here and now it just made him look more dangerously confident.

His pale form was thin, and well sculpted. She never would have guessed despite how overly thin he was, that he was so very well put together. She blushed, and tried not to look at the dark black curls swirling upwards from his groin.

Most of all, she was aware of his piercing gaze. When she was a child at Hogwarts, she knew very little escaped his dark eyes. Right now, they seemed fixated on her shirtless form.

She smiled and said apologetically, "I guess I'm still a bit girlish. I never grew much taller, and I'm still a bit boyish?" She had long ago reconciled herself to the fact that she was small and pixie-like.

Snape's expression was as severe as ever as he trailed his hand down from her shoulder, tracing a fingertip down her small breasts.

Hermione felt his fingertips like electric sparks across her skin. Goosebumps raised where his fingers touched, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. She just didn't expect to feel this way about his touch.

Severus looked up to her face, and said earnestly, "You grew into a very beautiful woman, Miss Granger. Perhaps you would let me see just how well you grew up?"

Hermione shook the cobwebs out of her head, and smiled. She wasn't a blushing girl anymore. She wasn't innocent of these things.

Hermione reached up to his hand, and walked backwards the couple of steps to her bed. She led her old Potions Professor until her legs bumped up against the mattress. Then she reached down, and undid the button on her jeans, and let them slide down over her hips.

For his part, Snape just watched with hawkish eyes, as she let the jeans fall to the floor, and scuffed her feet out of her shoes, moving them all to the side. Snape's dark eyes took in the naked young woman, standing in nothing but a pair of pink cotton panties and goosebumps.

Hermione then leaned forward, and extended her perfect pink tongue to lick slowly up the center of his chest. She felt him shudder under her touch, and smiled before pulling him back onto the bed with her.

She then felt him crawl over her, taking control of the situation, and taking control of her.

"Tell me Miss Granger, just what kind of woman did you grow up to be?" He asked, as he pulled them up on the bed.

She didn't have time to answer because he leaned his weight over her, and captured her lips with his, pressing hard into her. He kissed her hard enough to take her breath away, and it fanned the flames inside her.

She felt as his hands reached up to her hands, and brought them up over her head. She started when he managed to hold both her hands over her head with just one of his. Her eyes flew wide, and she saw Snape looking at her with such intensity, she was concerned something was going wrong. Then she felt him push his body into her, and felt how hard he was. Perhaps she should have spent more effort finding out exactly what it was that Severus Snape was interested in, for his lovers.

Snape lazily reached behind him, and called "Accio Wand!" with authority. It took only seconds for his wand to pull out of Hermione's open purse, to fly into his hands.

Hermione said nothing, but started breathing harder.

Snape murmured "Incarcerous" and she felt her wrists bind to the bed, and whimpered half out of nerves, and half out of desire.

Snape, now with his captive's wrists duly bound, ran his wand down hermione's chest just hard enough to raise a thin red line on her tender skin. "Shall we find out what kind of woman you are, Miss Granger?" he asked, then flicked his dark eyes up from her body to look her in the eyes.

Hermione whispered, "Yes, let's find that out, shall we?" Then she reached her slender legs up and over his pale back, and pulled Snape towards her. Then she arched up where their bodies touched, trying to feel every electric inch of his skin against hers.

Snape made some appreciative noises, and ground his hard cock up against her thigh.

Hermione responded to him like his touch was electric, "Let's do more of that, please."

Severus pulled away from her, made a couple of tsking noises, and sled back on the bed so he could lean down and start carefully licking the space between her breasts. His dark hair fell forward obscuring his face.

Hermione felt his hot breath, then his hot wet tongue start to trace circles on her skin. She held her breath as he started to trace circles towards her right breast, slowly but steadily, until he caught her nipple in his lips. She gasped as he sucked it into his mouth and sucked hard at it. Hard enough to make her moan out loud, and arch her back. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to have more, or if she wanted to dislodge him.

Then he slid further down on the bed, licking and nipping down her belly as he went. His every touch sent Hermione into starts and fits.

When he got to the elastic band of her pink cotton panties, he paused, and smiled up at her through his black hair. He watched her carefully, as her back was arched and her breath came in deep gasps. He was so very pleased that her nipples stood erect, and her head was thrown back.

He carefully took the band of her panties in his teeth, and tugged a few times, before licking the soft skin just above it. Then he reached up with his left hand, and carefully, teasingly, started to rub her lips until he could feel some of her wetness through the cotton.

Hermione felt his fingers touch her through her panties, and pulled at her bonds to no avail. She wanted more of his touch. Not the fleeting teases he was giving her. As he lightly passed his fingers over her she started to writhe a little, to bring her body closer to those fingers.

Severus chuckled, his voice sensual and deep, then in a quick motion, he ripped her panties off her hips smoothly. The sound of tearing fabric causing his captive to jump, and once again search out his eyes with hers.

"You have no idea what you are in for, do you?" he asked, as he grasped her hips, and pulled her back down where he wanted her.

Hermione kept her eyes steadily on his, before her lips parted and she said softly, "Please continue Severus."

He complied, by leaning down so his hair dragged across her belly, then traced his tongue down to the wispy curls of her pubic hair. He stopped to smile as she moaned.

Then he once again brought his left hand up, to rub his fingers very teasingly in her wet lips. He rubbed them slowly up to her clit, and backed them away when she pushed herself towards the touch.

"You will have to tell me what you want," he said with cruel smile. "Tell me out loud, in a way your parents would not approve of, girl."

Hermione responded quickly, "Make me come. Make me scream. Make me beg. Please!" She ran her right foot down his gorgeous lanky side, in encouragement.

"We'll see about that," he murmured, so close to her, she could feel his breath on her lower lips.

Hermione held her breath, then felt him part her lips gently, before his soft tongue licked around her labia, carefully avoiding her clit. She arched hard, and tried to shift, so he'd hit the spot, but the more she tried, the more he chuckled.

When she lifted her round ass off the bed, she was rewarded with a sharp smack across her tender flesh. She had forgotten he still held his wand in his right hand. She cried out, and gasped at the shock.

Severus' cruel smile deepened, as he saw her jerk against the bonds on her wrists. There were spells for this kind of thing, but that was just lazy. Being a potions master meant he had a certain fondness with doing things by hand. The red welt across the side of the woman's left ass cheek was well worth it.

Hermione gasped, and said, "Oh god, please. Please!" she writhed, but was careful to keep her back end firmly on the mattress.

Severus was only a little surprised that she was up to the challenge. Surely someone as intelligent as she was, had experimented? He doubted her character would let her engage in any activity without being over prepared. As a precaution, though, he murmured a small spell to make sure to ward off pregnancy and ill health from what they were about to engage in.

Then Snape parted her lips again, and delicately ran his tongue across her clit. Just enough to tease her, just enough to make her want more. He could hear her gasp and moan, as he slowly increased the intensity.

Hermione twisted at the bonds, and moaned at his touch. His touch was so sure, and so measured. She wanted more of it. She wanted to feel his mouth envelope her, sucking, and forcing her to come.

"Please make me come. . . Professor," she moaned out to him. She was rewarded with more contact with that delicious tongue of his. Then, she felt one of his fingers slide inside of her. Just his finger was enough to make her stutter out, "More . . more of that. . . please do more of that."

She felt his finger start to move inside her, and she couldn't quite place what he was doing, other than it sent jerking shocks of pleasure through her. Then, his mouth wrapped around her lips and clit, and his tongue beat against her steadily.

With each movement, he was bringing her closer. She had thought she'd had orgasms before, but this was so extreme, and overwhelming. She pulled back, fearful of how intense the sensation was, but he held her in place. His fingers and mouth forcing her body to arch back and the world around her to fall away.

It was like the world exploded, and she felt her body start to convulse. She was only vaguely aware that he was gulping her squirting come as she jerked with each of his movements. It was so much more than she had ever felt with any of her lovers.

When she was done, she felt him lick, and bite his way up to her face, kissing her with her own taste on his lips. She breathlessly returned his kiss, barely able to make sense of it all.

After a moment or two, she managed to say, "I have never had an orgasm that large before. I hope it's not the first and only time we do this."

Snape watched her, a little surprised, then released her arms from the bed frame. Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I am sure I can accommodate you, if you are up to the challenge now." Then he pressed his body down on her, grinding his erection into her thigh once more.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she nodded wordlessly. She had been so far gone with her pleasure, she had forgotten his. She was surprised at how gentlemanly he was to check with her preferences before making his bid for his own needs.

Snape whispered huskily into her ear, "Then roll over Miss Granger. Let's see what else we can do with that body of yours." He then nipped her neck with just enough force to make her gasp, before moving to let her roll onto her stomach under him.

He leaned back on his knees, and looked at her tight ass under him. One red welt wrapped just slightly around from her left side. It looked so very lonely, he thought, and then he made a few appreciative noises at the thought of giving it some friends.

Hermione felt him reach forward with his left hand to her hip, and pull her up on her hands and knees. She felt very vulnerable in this position, and looked over her shoulder to see what Snape was up too. She saw his dark eyes were wild, as he looked her over from under his dark hair. His skin still glistened in places from her orgasm, and he had the most cruel smile on his lips.

Severus leaned forward to gently lick, and kiss that perfect round ass, before pulling back, and saying, "If you can't stay still, Miss Granger, I will bind your arms again. Then you will regret forcing me into that action."

Then he brought his wand up to rub it slowly across her ass cheeks. When she didn't look too worried, he brought it back to snap another red welt across her tender flesh. Ah, now, there was the worried eyes he so adored in a lover, and the whimpered squeak of the first blow.

Hermione had no experience with this kind of thing. Her lovers had all been young men with very traditional interests. She was surprised at how hot it made her feel to have Snape whip his wand across her ass hard enough to make her jump. In fact, she could feel herself quiver, and lustily want more of him.

"Do more of that, please," Hermione asked in a shy, unsure voice. Did she really want to ask that of him. What did he really do for Voldemort, anyways? Was this how the decadent pure blooded Death Eaters amused themselves in their off time? Or was this how a man playing double agent dealt with his trust issues? Either way, she found it to her liking.

He smiled when she asked for more, and complied with several steady snaps, making a lattice of red welts across her. He enjoyed watching her struggle to stay on her hands and knees with each blow. Then, when her tender young ass was red enough, he reached around to find her wet lips again with his hands. She was wet, and her clit stood like a small button demanding attention. As soon as he made contact, he heard her moan wordlessly, and felt her push herself back towards him.

"Here," He said, "I want you to reach back, and touch yourself." Then he pulled his hands away, and reached down to his own hard cock. When he was sure she was beginning to tap her own fingers across her clit, he started rubbing the head of his cock in the wetness of her lips. He rubbed himself back and forth until he was slick with her juices.

Hermione felt him start to enter her. She gasped out, "Oh, oh, oh," unable to muster real words. As he pushed slowly inside, she felt his hard girth spread her open. He managed to sink in full, and they both paused breathing hard.

She felt him dig his fingers into her reddened ass, and she started again, inadvertently thrusting on him in the process. She could hear him gasp as she did. He pulled back, before sinking into her again. Then with a steady rhythm he started thrusting into her.

She was still sensitive from the orgasm he had already given her, and each thrust made her involuntarily jerk. When she didn't move enough, he viciously dug his nails into her tender ass to force her to move more.

Once again, she forgot about the outside world. It was only his cock, his fingers, and her own hands beating against her clit.

Severus thrust into her for several more minutes, but this time, he was too sensitive, and she was too hot under him to last much longer. He thrust harder, and faster, until his hips jerked uncontrollably, bucking into her. He came with intensity, slumping over her back, realizing she was still franticly fondling herself.

He whispered into her ear, "Fuck yourself Hermione. That's it. Feel me still inside you, and bring yourself off."

At the sound of his words, and the feel of his body on top of hers, she started to come again. Not the crashing squirting version from before, but still so intense as to black out all but the feel of him, and the sound of his voice.

She collapsed, under his weight, feeling her lower lips contract around his softening cock in the aftershocks.

She made a disappointed whining noise when he pulled out of her, and laid beside her.

Slowly she realized he was looking at her with his intense dark eyes.

Snape said lazily, with a smirk, "So, Miss Granger, do you plan to tell me exactly why you took the time and effort to resurrect your rather adversarial potions professor?"

Hermione realized he was smart enough to know she had an agenda, and decided she'd have to trust her spellwork to hold things together for her. He was not a man that believed in the big love story, other people favored.

"Of all the people in the war, Professor," She pronounced his title with an impertinent tone, "you are the only one that had the best chance of knowing the secrets that both sides kept. Plus, you were a man of your word, and could be trusted. Therefore, if I want to attempt to sort a few things out for myself, you would be the most likely person to deal with."

"Voldemort is truly dead? There are no more sides or games?" Snape asked.

"Yes, Voldemort is dead, but I'm playing my game now," Hermione said, "And I'm extending an invitation for you to play it with me." She held her breathe watching. Waiting as he appraised the situation. Now would be the time to worry.

"Well Miss Granger, perhaps I'll see what it is you have in mind," Snape responded, before lazily running a gentle finger down her side.


End file.
